I grew up in a census-designated place in Honolulu County, Hawai’I – Waimalu. It has a total population of 13,000 at the 2010 census. My boyfriend and I worked in a convenient store the summer after graduating from Pearl City High School. We were young and stubborn, driving around town smoking cigarettes thinking we were so cool.
We were meandering in a farmland surrounding our town. One day, we discovered a deserted two-story farmhouse. We found ourselves driving to see the house every day, we were curious. We then realized that the farmhouse, whatever the time of the day we drove by, was always alone. The porch light was never on and there was no sign of any activity inside the house.
We probably don’t remember the number of times we drove by the farmhouse that summer. We were talking about our dreams, hopes, and plans for college, and every time we pass by that farm house, we stopped and asked ourselves where the people living there were.
After that summer, my boyfriend had to move out of town for college. I still drive around the same route we had, passing through the farmhouse from time to time. I’ve always felt sorry for the empty and most likely forgotten house, but I had comfort from it as I watched my friends move away one by one.
My boyfriend came back home in Waimalu summer after summer for five consecutive years. I never got the chance to come back to the farmhouse until that day we broke up. It was July of 2014 when we had to break up after having decided that he needed to move away for good. It wasn’t so much of a painful break up, but it made me lonely. One day, I decided to take my last drive on the route then I remembered the farmhouse. It was still there, alone yet still solid and firm. From then on, I decided not to drive through that farmhouse again. I realized that I should learn to stay firm despite loneliness and solitude.